


Beautiful

by Jasleigh22



Series: Beautiful series [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adorable Harry, Angst, Bad Ron, Crossdressing, Crossdressing Harry Potter, Derogatory Language, Fluff, Harry's beautiful, Hermione won't put up with Ron, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, draco is nice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 02:42:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6034903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jasleigh22/pseuds/Jasleigh22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the very first fanfic I ever wrote, so i apologize if it sucks. This just randomly came to me one day when I was in Philosophy class. (I was still in school when i wrote this) I was supposed to be taking notes, but I was thinking about Harry Potter guys in "girl clothes" (don't ask why) and this little not-so –little one-shot, which became a two-shot was born.<br/>Harry is obssesed with beauty. Ron and Hermione don't understand but someone unexpected does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Harry looked at himself in the mirror, twirling a lock of curled, raven hair around one manicured finger. His emerald eyes were framed with black eyeliner and mascara. There was a light blush on his high cheekbones and a layer of lip gloss on his rosy lips. He smiled happily at the way the green, backless sundress fit him. 'So beautiful,' he thought happily, before going over to his wardrobe and pulling out a pair of silver sandals.

"Hey mate, you ready to go yet?" Ronald Weasly asked loudly, flinging Harry's bedroom door open.

Harry dropped the sandals in his hand onto the floor and whirled around in surprise. "Ron…" he said on the verge of panic.

"Bloody hell! What in Merlin's name are you doing?" Ron gasped.

"Just…goofing around…I…I was going to surprise you and 'Mione. Give you a bit of a laugh, ya know," Harry stammered, laughing nervously.

"You mean a bloody heart attack. There is nothing funny about that, mate. Where'd you get that thing anyway?"

Before Harry could respond, Hermione came rushing into the room. "Is he ready yet? We were supposed to meet your parents fifteen minutes ag… Harry? What…"

"It was a joke," Harry said quickly, "I wanted to give you guys a laugh, but obviously it didn't work, so I'm just going to get ready to go now, okay?"

Neither of them believed their green-eyed friend, but decided to accept his excuse until they could question him later.

Harry let out a sigh of relief once his friends left his room and he locked his door. 'I cannot believe that just happened,' he thought as he let the dress fall to the floor and padded over to his wardrobe in nothing but a black panties, 'I wish I could've explained…but they would never understand. Never.' Tears filled vibrant green eyes as he pulled on a pair of dark blue jeans, a plain black t-shirt, and his trainers. He magic-ed his hair back to the chin-length, shaggy mop that it was before and cleaned the make-up from his face before slipping his glasses on and going into the sitting room to face his friends.

"That's better, mate," Ron said, sighing in relief when he saw Harry.

"Much better. Now let's go. We're already late," Hermione said, grabbing both males' arms before apparating them to the Burrow.

* * *

 

After a long, and uncomfortable for Harry, lunch at the Burrow, the trio apparated back to Harry's house.

"Do you guys want some tea?" Harry asked, trying to smile but failing.

"No thanks," Hermione said, "Sit down and talk to us, Harry."

"About what?" he asked, taking a seat in the armchair beside the sofa.

"Why were you dressed like that this morning?" she asked.

"I told you…"

"A lie," Ron said, "We know you well enough to know when you're lying, mate."

"You think you know me," Harry mumbled, suddenly feeling a bit angry.

"Of course we know you. We've been best friends for almost nine years," Hermione said softly.

"If you really knew me, then you'd know why I was dressed the way I was dressed this morning."

"How could we know? We didn't even know you dressed like that. Will please explain why?" she said.

"It's not like you'll understand," he mumbled.

"You don't know that until you explain it to us," she said.

"Yeah, mate, if anyone will understand, it's your best friends," Ron said.

"Okay," Harry said, taking a deep breath, "I…it's…it's just…I want to be beautiful."

"You want to be…beautiful?" Hermione asked uncertainly.

He nodded.

"You do know, blokes aren't supposed to be beautiful, right?" Ron said, looking at his friend oddly.

"I want to be beautiful. After all I've done, I think I deserve to be beautiful if that's what I want."

"But Harry…" Hermione started.

"I want to be beautiful! Is that too much to ask? Do you not think I can be beautiful? That's what it is, isn't it?" Harry sobs, his voice breaking on the last word.

"No, Harry, that's not what we meant," she said, desperately trying to calm her sobbing friend. "We just…we don't understand," she admits.

"Of course not. I knew you wouldn't understand!"

"We're trying, Harry. Can you explain what you mean? What do you mean you want to be beautiful?"

"I mean just that. I want to be beautiful. I…I've always felt like such an ugly, clumsy, awkward freak. For once in my life, I want to feel beautiful. So after my last year at Hogwarts, I decided I was going to be beautiful no matter what."

"But Harry…why beautiful?" she asked gently, "Most guys don't want to be beautiful. They want to be cute or handsome or good-looking or sexy…not beautiful. And you are those things Harry. You're gorgeous. You always have been."

"No," he said, shaking his head and sniffling, "I'm not any of those things. I can't be. But I can be beautiful. I was beautiful this morning…in that green dress. I was so pretty. Wasn't I?"

"...The dress was pretty, Harry, but dresses are for girls."

"Says who?" he exclaimed angrily, "There's no rule that says I can't wear a dress if I want to."

"But you shouldn't wear a dress and make up to try to be something you're not."

"Are you saying…I'm not beautiful?" he asked softly.

"No, I'm not talking about trying to be beautiful. I'm talking about trying to be a woman, Harry."

"I'm not trying to be a woman. I just want to be beautiful. Why can't you understand that?" he asked desperately.

"I'm trying, Harry, I am, but it's hard. Just give us some time, okay?" she said, standing, "We're going to go now, okay because I think we need some time to think. Ron?"

"You were right," Ron said, standing as well.

Harry stared up at him in confusion. "What…"

"I don't know you. The Harry I know isn't a freak." And with that, Ron apparated away.

"Oh Harry," Hermione said as Harry just stared at the spot Ron just occupied, "he didn't mean that. I know he didn't. He's just…overwhelmed, but he'll come around. He will."

"Just go, okay? Please?" he pleaded, "I just want to be alone right now."

"Okay, but I'll talk to you later. We're still friends, Harry, and Ron…"

"Stop! Just go, okay?" he yelled frustratedly.

Hermione quickly apparated away without another word.

Harry immediately went to his bedroom, stripping off his clothes as he went until he was wearing nothing but his little black panties. He was almost frantic as he pulled on a pair of red short shorts with the word LOVE written across the back and a black tank top with sequins. After pulling on a pair of black snow boots (Uggs), he lengthened and curled his hair before pulling it into a high ponytail wit a few strands falling around his face. "Almost," he whispered to himself before applying eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss. He sighed to him himself in relief as if a great burden had been lifted off his shoulders. He sprayed on a bit of perfume before going back into the living room to curl up on the sofa with his legs tucked under his bum and watch some telly. 'I knew they wouldn't understand,' he thought as he flipped through the channels on the telly, 'but that's okay. I don't need them. I don't need…my friends who I've known since I was eleven years old. My only real friends.' He dropped the remote control onto the sofa, and the sound of the telly was drowned out but the sound of the sobs that racked through the green eyed man's body

* * *

 

Two days later, Harry sat on the sofa in a green camisole and a pair of black sweat pants that he got from a muggle store called Victoria Secrets painting his toenails red. He hadn't heard from Hermione or Ron, and as much as he hoped he would, he knew he probably wouldn't. 'Some best friends,' he thought angrily. He was just starting to put a clear coat on his left foot when there was a knock at his front door. 'I wonder who that could be,' he thought as he got up to answer it, walking with his toes up in that weird way that people walk when their toenails are wet. He gasped in shock as he opened the door and came face to face with a pair of all-too-familiar silver eyes.

"Hello, Potter," drawled the all-too-familiar voice.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" he asked with more curiosity than annoyance in his voice.

"I just had to see if it was true, and apparently it is," Malfoy said, smirking as he walked past Harry into his house and into his sitting room.

"What's true?" Harry asked, shutting the door and following him into the sitting room.

"I overheard the weasel ranting to his brothers who own that dreadful shop in Diagon Alley about his best friend being a 'freak in women's clothing'. Although, I must admit, you don't look as freakish as I expected. Care to explain why you're dressed like this?"

'Ron told Fred and George about me? And he still thinks I'm a freak.' "Not really. If my so-called best friends don't understand, then I highly doubt you will," Harry said, checking to make sure his toenails were dry before curling up on the sofa.

"Try me," Draco said, crossing his legs and sitting back in the armchair.

Something about the sincere interest in the silver eyes staring at him made Harry want to tell the blonde. "I want to be beautiful. I don't want to be the ugly, clumsy, awkward freak, I felt like in school. I want to be beautiful. It's as simple as that," he said.

"Harry," Draco said, surprising both himself and the green-eyed male by calling him by his first name, "You weren't any of those things in school…except maybe clumsy, but in an adorably cute way."

"Y-you thought I was cute?" Harry gasped in shock.

"Did and still do," Draco said, nodding.

"Is that why you offered to be my friend that first day at school?" Harry asked curiously.

"Part of the reason. I know we were only eleven, but I still thought you were cute. I remember thinking you had the prettiest eyes I'd ever seen. And I just knew after I introduced myself, we'd become friends and you'd fall in love with me just because I'm Draco Malfoy. I know I'm arrogant. But then you rejected me. Malfoys don't take rejection well."

"And that's why you were such an arse to me for seven whole years."

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"Whoa, Draco Malfoy just apologized to me," Harry said in faux shock.

"Yes well, don't get used to it," the blonde said, rolling his eyes playfully.

"Of course not," the brunette said, suddenly biting his lip and shyly looking up at Draco from underneath long, raven eyelashes, "So…I know you said you thought I was cute, b-but…d-do you think I'm beautiful?"

"Yes, I do," Draco said, moving to sit next to Harry, "but not because of your clothes or your make-up. You are beautiful no matter what you wear. You always have been." Harry shook his head and started to disagree, but Draco reached up to cup his cheek and shushed him. "No, don't disagree. You are and always have been beautiful. You were beautiful when you showed up to Hogwarts with those big, beautiful green eyes trying to take in every sight. You were beautiful whenever you defended your friends when I insulted them. You were beautiful the first time you beat me at Quidditch. You were beautiful when you rode that hippogriff in Care of Magical Creatures. You were beautiful when you fought that dragon in the Twi-Wizard Tournament. You were beautiful when you attended the Winter Ball and danced with that Patil girl. You were beautiful when you defeated Voldermort and made the wizarding world safe. And you're beautiful right now with that adorable blush, those chapped lips, and those big, innocent green eyes that should never ever cry." As he said this, he wiped away the tears that had started to fall from vibrant green eyes. "You don't have to dress a certain way to be beautiful. You could wear an old, dirty t-shirt and sweats and still be the most beautiful creature I've ever laid my eyes upon."

"Y-you really mean that? All of that?" Harry asked in an astonished whisper.

"Every word," Draco said before leaning down and capturing the smaller male's rosy lips in the most passionate kiss either male had ever experienced. When they broke away from each other after several minutes, they were both panting slightly and two sets of cheeks were flushed. The taller male slipped his arm around the smaller male's waist, pulling him against his side and sighed contently.

The smaller male, on the other hand, bit his lip as something bothered him terribly. "Draco?" he said softly.

"Yes, beautiful?" Harry's heart leapt at being called beautiful, but bit his lip nervously before asking, "Will it bother you if I still dress like…this…sometimes?"

Draco looked at Harry in the camisole and fitting sweat pants for a minute before smiling. "Of course not, love," he said, pulling Harry onto his lap.

Harry snuggled against the taller male and sighed in contentment as long, pale fingers began to card through his long, wavy hair. "I love you, Draco," he murmured, burying his face in the crook of said male's neck.

"I love you too, beautiful."

And Harry did feel beautiful.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry bit his lip as he sat in bed fiddling with the hem of his red satin pajama top. It had been almost three weeks and he still hadn't heard from Hermione or Ron. He hadn't really expected to hear from Ron, but Hermione had said she would talk to him later. *She said we were still friends* he thought as tears filled emerald eyes, *then why haven't I heard from her?*

"Love, what's wrong?" Draco asked as he walked out of the bathroom in nothing but a pair of Harry's boxers, toweling his hair dry. Harry may have not talked to his friends, but he and the blonde had become closer than ever in two weeks. Said blonde tossed his towel onto the floor and grabbed one of Harry's t-shirts to put on before crawling into bed with his green-eyed lover. "Love?" he said, slipping his arm around Harry's waist and pulling him closer to him.

"It's Hermione and Ron," Harry said softly after a moment, "I still haven't heard from either of them. I know Ron thinks I'm a freak, so I didn't really expect to hear from him, but Hermione said we were still friends. She said we'd talk later, but it's been almost three weeks. Why haven't I heard from her? Am I really that big of a freak that they're going to end our friendship after all we've been through?"

"Harry, you are not a freak," Draco said, tilting the smaller male's chin up to look him in the eyes.

"Then why haven't I heard from them?"

"Because your friends are idiots," Draco said simply. Harry frowned and tried to pull away from his blonde lover, but the arm around his waist tightened, keeping him against his lover's broad chest. "I'm sorry, Harry," Draco said, "but it's true. If they don't see how amazing you are whether you're wearing jeans or a skirt, then they are idiots and they don't deserve to be your friends."

"That's really sweet, Dray," Harry said, blushing slightly, "but that doesn't make me miss them any less. They are…were…are my best friends. The only friends I've ever had. If I lose them…I won't…I won't have any friends at all." His voice cracked on the last word as he started to sob.

"Hey," Draco said in a very soft, un-Malfoy voice as he carded his fingers through his green-eyed lover's raven locks, "I understand. I do. I completely understand not having any friends."

"How could you possibly understand?" Harry asked, sniffling as he pulled away to look up at him, "You had lots of friends when we were in school."

"No, I had a bunch a fake people who respected and feared my father and fell for the mask I wore. I have never had a true friend."

"Oh," Harry said, suddenly feeling bad, "If…if I had known the real you, I would've been your friend."

"Really? Even though I was an evil Slytherin?"

"Dray, I never hated you because of the house you were in. I hated you because you were an arse and a git. You could've been in Gryffindor and acted the same way and I still would've hated you."

"You really hated me back then? I never really hated you, you know. I was upset that you rejected my friendship, but I didn't hate you. I just had to act like I did because of the Malfoy image. I hated every minute of it. I hate that I made you hate me."

"I didn't hate the real you because I didn't know the real you. I hated the you that you pretended to be. But I know the real you now and I love it. I love you."

"I love you too. And I'm sorry I called your friends idiots."

"It's okay. But I don't want to talk about them anymore. If I do, I'll just start crying again."

"Okay, we won't talk about them anymore. I don't want you to cry. Those emerald green eyes are too beautiful to be filled with tears and sadness," Draco said, kissing away the tears from his lover's cheeks.

Sniffling, Harry snuggled deep into his lover's embrace before falling asleep.

* * *

 

Two days later, Harry was sitting on the edge of his bed brushing his hair when Draco walked into the bedroom. His mouth was turned down into a frown, which immediately worried Harry.

"What is it?" he asked, bracing himself for the worst.

"You have a fire-call," Draco said.

"Oh…who is it?"

"Just…go see, okay?"

"Okay," Harry said, dropping his hairbrush and walking out of the room. As he entered the sitting room, he was shocked to see a bushy-haired witch's head in his fire place. "Hermione?" he gasped, falling to his knees in front of the fireplace.

"Harry, why is Draco Malfoy in your home and answering you fire-calls?" Hermione asked in confusion.

"If you had been around the last two weeks, you'd know why," Harry said angrily, "What do you want, Hermione?"

"I want to talk to you, Harry. I told you that we're still friends."

"Oh really? Then why have you been avoiding me?"

"I have not been avoiding you."

"Then why haven't I heard from you in almost three weeks?"

"I haven't been avoiding you," she said once again, "I just…I just needed some time to think and…stuff"

"Think about what? Whether you want to be my friend or not?"

"No, Harry…can I come through…please?"

"Fine," Harry said, standing and backing away from the fireplace.

About a second later, Hermione stepped into the sitting room. She tried not to pay too much attention to the green, off-the-shoulder sweatshirt and blue jeans shorts that her best guy friend was wearing and the eyeliner around his eyes.

"I'm not changing. This is my home, and I'll wear what I want," Harry said, frowning as he noticed her eyeing his clothing, "If you don't like it, you can…"

"Harry, please. I didn't come here to fight with you."

"Why are you here?" he asked, sitting down in an armchair and tucking his legs under his bum and gesturing for her to sit down as well.

"You're my friend. Aren't I allowed to visit you?"

"You mean you really do still want to be my friend?"

"Yes, of course."

"But…what about Ron? Is he…"

"Ron and I broke up."

"What? But…why? Because of me? 'Mione, you can't…"

"Not because of you, Harry. Because if him. He has been a total arse the last few weeks. The things he has said about someone who is supposed to be his best friend…I can't stay with to a person like that. I won't."

"So, it is because of me. Because of the things Ron's saying about me. I heard he told Fred and George that I'm a freak in women's clothing. Have the insults gotten worse?"

"Oh Harry…it's like he's not the same Ron we knew. The things he's said…it's just awful. He expected me to choose him over you, but I just can't. Not with the way he's acting. You are my best friend, Harry, no matter what you wear."

"Do you need a place to stay, 'Mione? Since I'm sure you don't want to live with him until you find a new place."

"No thanks, Harry. I'm keeping the house, and he's leaving to move back in with his mum and dad."

"Oh…did he…I mean, do the rest of his family know?"

"Yes, he went and ranted to them the day we left here. Oh Harry, they…"

"They all think I'm a freak, don't they?"

"Not all of them. Ginny, Percy, Charlie and Bill all side with Ron. Ginny's just upset because she thinks that dressing the way you do will eventually make you gay and then she'll never have a chance with you. It's idiotic, really. But Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and the twins side with me. We still love you, and we don't care how you dress. And we're not idiotic enough to believe your sexual orientation will change just because of what you wear."

"Actually 'Mione…" Harry said, biting his lip nervously, "I am gay, but it has nothing to do with the way I dress. It actually has to do with why Draco is here."

"You mean…you…and Malfoy…"

"Yes."

"And he knows about…the way you dress?"

"Yes, he does."

"What does he think about it?"

"I think he's absolutely beautiful, Granger," Draco drawled, entering the room and going to stand next to Harry.

"You…you do?" she stammered.

"Of course I do. How can I not?"

"Harry…how…how long…and how?"

"He came over a couple of days after I told you guys. He heard Ron telling the twins about me, so he came over to see for himself. And after we talked for a while, we realized we love each other."

"You may have realized it that day, but I knew I loved you years ago," Draco said, lifting Harry into his arms and sitting down in the armchair with his lover on his lap, "And if you have a problem with that, Granger, that's too bad."

"I…I don't have a problem. There'll only be a problem if you ever hurt Harry. Obviously, he's happy with you, so I'm happy for him."

"Thanks, 'Mione. Thank you so much," Harry said, smiling with tears in his eyes, "but do you think you guys could stop the 'Malfoy' and 'Granger' stuff? We're not at Hogwarts anymore."

"Of course. If he'll call me Hermione…and nothing else, then I'll call him Draco."

"Very well, Hermione," Draco drawled.

"Thank you, Draco. Oh and Harry, the twins and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley want you to come to dinner on Saturday. They're fine with you dressing the way you do. The twins are actually very curious to see what you look like. We're having dinner at my house, so you don't have to worry about seeing Ron or anyone else who might insult you. Draco, you're invited as well."

"I…I don't know. What if they think they can handle it, but then see me and decide it's too weird? And if Draco comes, they'll just hate me even more. No offense, Dray."

"None taken. You're right. The Weasleys don't like me, and they're not going to like the fact that we're dating," Draco said.

"They'll be fine with it when they see how happy you make, Harry. I promise," she said.

"You can't promise that."

"Yes, I can because I know the Weasleys. They love Harry and they want him to be happy. So, please come."

"Okay fine I have no idea what I'm going to wear though," Harry mumbled.

"Wear…the green dress…the one Ron and I saw you in. You really did look nice in it."

"Okay. Thanks, 'Mione," he said, grinning.

* * *

That Saturday, Harry sat in front of his mirror, using his wand to curl his hair. His viridian eyes were lined with a light layer of eyeliner and mascara with a bit of eye-shadow. He set his brush down to apply a light layer of blush to cheeks and a bit of lip-gloss to his lips. His hand shook as he applied his make-up and he sighed as he made a futile attempt to calm himself down. 'I can't believe I'm doing this,' he thought nervously, 'Of course they're not going to be okay with this. They're going to think I'm some kind of freak. I can't do this.'

As he stood up and began to unzip his dress, his bedroom door opened. "What are you doing?" his blonde lover asked, walking into the room fixing his tie, "Why are you taking off your dress?"

"I can't do this, Dray, I can't," Harry said, frantically, "They're going to think I'm some sort of freak if I go to dinner like this. I thought I could do this, but I can't."

"You mean, you can't go to dinner or you just can't wear the dress to dinner?"

"I'll go to dinner, but not in the dress. I'll just wear jeans or something. I'll just dress…normally for this evening."

"Normally? You mean in the clothes that make you cry and feel uncomfortable?"

"It's just one dinner."

"No, it's not, Harry. You shouldn't dress in a way that you don't like. You should wear what you want."

"But, Dray, they're going to think I'm a nut showing up dressed like this."

"Do you think you look like a nut?"

"No, but…"

"How do you think you look?"

"…Beautiful…I…I love this dress so much. I've been dying to wear it ever since I bought it, but…"

"Then wear it. You look gorgeous in it, so wear it."

"But…"

"No, buts, love. Wear the dress."

"Okay," Harry said softly.

"Now where are your shoes?"

"In the closet. The silver sandals."

Once Harry and Draco were dressed, they floo-ed to Hermione's house and into her sitting room. Voices could be heard from the kitchen. Harry could hear Hermione telling the twins not to run into the sitting room and ambush him, which he was grateful for. He took a few seconds to calm himself down before entering the kitchen with Draco right behind him.

"Hi, everybody," he said, softly.

Every head was turned to watch him enter the kitchen, and Harry stared down at the floor as everyone in the room took in his appearance.

Finally, the twins broke the silence. "Well, isn't he a beauty?" Fred said, grinning at his twin, "What do ya think, Forge?"

"I must agree with you, Gred. He's a beauty," George said, "but If any guy could be beautiful, of course it would be our Harry."

"And not only that, he brought eye candy," Fred said, eyeing Draco, whose hand Harry was clutching nervously.

"Alright you two, knock it off," Molly Weasley said, "Hi, Harry. It's been a while since we've seen you. You look…nice."

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley. I know this is probably really weird, but thanks so much for…accepting me. It really means a lot," Harry said, fighting back tears.

"Of course, dearie. You know you're like a son to me and Arthur and you always will be. Isn't that right, Arthur?"

"Of course. You're a part of our family, Harry. You always have been and you always will be. No matter what you wear…or who you date," Arthur Weasley said, nodding to Draco.

"Thank you so much."

"Harry, why don't we have a chat in the sitting room while we wait on dinner?" Fred said.

"And bring your eye-candy of course," George said, following his twin out of the kitchen.

Harry and Draco warily followed the twins into the sitting room and sat down on the loveseat, while Fred and George sat down on the sofa.

"Seriously, Harry, calm down. No one's going to insult you or anything," Fred said, noticing that Harry was still a bit tense.

"Sorry. I just can't believe you guys are so okay with…this. Don't you think this is weird?" Harry said, biting his lip.

"A bit," said George, "but.."

"George and I live for weirdness," finished Fred.

"Besides you're like a little brother to us," said George.

"Our awesome little brother," said Fred.

"Who just so happens to be insanely beautiful," finished George.

"Okay, I'm glad you guys are accepting Harry, but could you please kill the twin talk," Draco said, growing annoyed.

"No can do, Draco," the twins said in unison.

"Eventually you get used to them," Harry said, smiling.

"Yes, you will," said George.

"if you plan to spend a lot of time with our Harry," finished Fred.

"Mr. eye-candy," they said together.

"Well at least stop calling me eye candy. I didn't even know you guys were gay. You don't have like some twincest thing going on, do you?" Draco said, grimacing.

"Of course not. And we're not gay, per se," said Fred.

"We still like girls," said George.

"But we also can appreciate some male eye-candy such as yourself or a beauty such as our green eyed friend here."

"You have some weird friends, Harry," Draco said.

"Yeah, but they're also the best," Harry said, grinning. After that, his nervousness completely disappeared and he slipped easily into a conversation about the twins' joke shop, while Draco just listened and stroked his hand.

Once dinner was ready and everyone was sitting down eating, Mrs. Weasley looked over at Harry.

"So, Harry, how long have you and Draco…I mean, how…" she asked.

"He came over a few weeks ago after hearing…Ron talking about me to the twins and we started talking and I got to see the real Draco."

"Oh, so are you two serious? I mean, do you…are you…"

"Yes, we are serious. I love him, and he loves me."

"Well that's wonderful," she said, looking visibly relieved, and that was the end of any awkwardness. Like Hermione said, they could see that Draco made Harry happy so they were happy for him.

When Harry and Draco arrived home later that night, Harry was happier than he had ever been. He may have lost Ron, but he still had Draco, Hermione, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and the twins, and that was enough for him.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on fanfiction.net, but I'm moving all of my story over to AO3. For anyone who read my stories on FFNet first, I will making a few small edits as I move my stories. So if part of a story seems different, that's why.


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